[fic] making love to someone else

[pairofraggedclaws]

Title: making love to someone else
Fandom: 9-1-1
Rating: E
Word count: 1950
Characters/pairings: Father Brian/Eddie, Buck/Eddie(in Eddie's mind)
Summary: Eddie has feelings to process; Brian "helps". A fucked up time is had by all. (Consensual, but some weird/unethical power dynamics at play.)

 

"Can I say something a little out there?" Brian says.

They're at Eddie's house, sitting on the couch and talking. It's nice to talk to Brian; helpful. Even more so, Eddie thinks, now that he's just Brian, no Father, and they don't have the wall of the confessional between them.

“I’m not gonna deny that Kim – Kim?” Eddie nods. “That Kim didn’t go about things in the right way.” Brian raises his palms. “Understatement, I know. But maybe...maybe you got something out of it?”

“Uh.” Eddie laughs incredulously. “A breakup and three months away from my son?”

“I’m saying this wrong,” Brian says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “What I mean is, pretending you were talking to Shannon, it sounds like it could have been productive. It allowed you to feel like you were communicating with her. Under different circumstances, it might have given you closure.”

Eddie thinks about that. “Okay. Maybe. But,” he says, “instead it fucked everything up.”

“Okay, well, here you and I are, and we have time and space to talk about anything you want. No one's on the way home, no one's gonna interrupt. And I was just wondering if...if there’s something you wanted to say to Buck?”

“To Buck,” Eddie says. “Why? Buck’s alive, for one thing, I can just talk to him. And everything’s...fine with me and Buck.” He doesn’t say it as a lie, but as soon as he says it, it sounds like one. There’s no reason he and Buck shouldn’t be fine, and so they must be fine. But.

Brian’s eyes are too keen, too perceptive. He cut to Eddie’s core after hearing him talk for two minutes in a confessional and watching him buy a bottle of water; Eddie can’t imagine what he’s reading on his face right now. “Hmm,” is all Brian says.

Eddie’s sweating, maybe; this guy should be an interrogator. “I, I mean, maybe it’s been a little weird? I don’t know. Nothing’s happened .”

“All I’m saying is maybe it would help you figure out how you’re feeling,” Brian says.

“If I pretended you were Buck,” Eddie says. He shouldn't be considering this. He isn't considering this.

Brian inclines his head. “It’s just a thought. If it freaks you out, we can go back to chatting.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, for some fucking reason, and then his mouth goes dry. Brian doesn’t help him out at all, just looks at him placidly. Maybe that’s something learned in seminary, how to serenely stare people into submission. “Uh, Buck – I can’t. You don’t even look like him.”

Brian shrugs, gets up to dim the lights. When he sits back down on the couch next to Eddie, he’s barely more than a silhouette. He’s not Buck. Eddie knows Buck’s silhouette, frankly. He knows Buck’s smell, and the way he breathes. But – he can almost believe it. He can pretend.

“Fuck,” Eddie says quietly. “Sorry. I don’t – I don’t know what to say.”

“What would you say to Buck?” Brian says. He’s talking lower, the way one does in a darkened room, and it makes his voice deeper, rougher. Again – not Buck, but Eddie can almost believe it.

“Buck,” Eddie says, and clears his throat. “I’ve, uh. I’ve been kind of – mad. At you.”

Mad – is that what he is? He didn’t think he was mad.

“I’ve been kind of mad at you too,” Brian says.

“What – why?” Eddie says, and yeah, that’s irritation flaring in him.

“Tommy broke up with me, but we haven’t talked,” Brian says. Eddie has a moment of vertigo – like Brian somehow really transformed into Buck – and then remembers, right, he told Brian about that. “Are you avoiding me?”

“No!” Eddie sighs, rubbing his face. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to.”

“Okay.”

“You’re just,” Eddie says, gesturing vaguely in the darkness. He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say. “You’re…”

“What, Eddie,” Buck says, and Eddie...something inside him snaps.

“You’re pissing me off!” he bursts out. “You’re making me so mad, Buck. All you talk about is Tommy and how much you miss him.”

A shifting of weight beside him on the couch, Buck turning to face him, sitting sideways. “Y-you’re mad at me because I’m upset I got dumped?”

“No!” Eddie says. Hesitates. “Yes! Why do you care about that asshole? He broke up with you! He told you your feelings weren’t real. You should fucking move on.”

“Move on to what?” Buck says with bitterness. “It’s not like things tend to work out for me.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Eddie says. “Don’t act like it’s your fault. You deserve better. You deserve someone…”

“What?” Buck says after a moment.

“Someone who loves you for you,” Eddie says hoarsely. “Someone who treats you like you can make your own choices, who, who gets your stupid humor and gets how smart you are. Just someone who gets you.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, something about his tone changing. But Eddie’s not done.

“Someone…” Eddie says. He finds he can’t finish the sentence, and his hands close the gap, pulling Buck to him by his shirt, and he kisses him, kisses him, kisses him. Buck kind of gasps against his mouth but he’s kissing back, and Eddie’s head spins, what is happening? And why doesn’t Buck smell like himself?

Eddie shoves himself back from Brian, breathing raggedly. “ Fuck .”

There’s a beat of silence during which Eddie’s soul annhilates itself. “It's okay,” Brian says, too breezy to be genuine.

Eddie covers his face . “I’m really fucking sorry,” he says, muffled into his palms. “ I shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t want...I’m sorry.”

Brian’s silhouette fidgets. “I kissed you back,” he says, like it costs him something to say it. “That was my choice. You didn’t force me to do anything.”

The air in the room is thickening, it seems. “Oh,” Eddie says, then, dumbly, “I’m straight.” But then, right. He already said that to Brian.

A delicate pause, and then Brian says, “And I’m celibate.” Fingers close around Eddie’s wrist and he gasps, absurdly loud in the dark room.

“Brian…” Eddie sounds like...he doesn’t even know what. Like he’s been ripped up, demolished down to the studs.

A hand finds Eddie’s face, and Brian is right there, his breath on Eddie’s lips. “Not Brian.” The softest, lightest kiss on Eddie’s lips. “I can be Buck for you. Just for now.”

Eddie can’t say yes to that. But...he can’t say no.

He kisses Brian. He kisses him, and it’s not like before, those quick, fumbling, desperate kisses. This kiss is more like he’s driving down the highway, doing 90 miles an hour, and the car is on fire, and the stick shift is Eddie’s dick and it’s pretty fucking hard. Their mouths work together furiously, frantically, for long moments before Eddie rips his lips away from Brian’s and says, between breaths that sound like sobs, “What the fuck are we doing.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Brian says faintly. Then he drops his voice to a lower register (he has to be doing that on purpose) and says, “We’ll figure it out. You’re my best friend, Eddie.”

He doesn’t sound like Buck. But he sounds enough like Buck.

“You’re my best friend no matter what,” Buck says, and pushes Eddie back against the armrest, leaning over him to kiss his neck. Eddie’s gasping and cupping the back of his head with a shaking hand as he kisses down Eddie’s neck, down his chest to drag his tongue across Eddie’s nipple.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie sobs, arching into the feeling, the wet soft heat of Buck’s tongue. “God, Buck, you’re my best fucking friend, fuck, I love you, I…”

“I love you, Eddie,” Buck says, and presses his mouth against the front of Eddie’s pants, rubs his cheek against his hard cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eddie says, and he can’t unzip his pants fast enough, his hands shaking, and then his cock is wrapped in velvet heat and Eddie’s mouth opens on a silent moan. He’s not breathing, he realizes, and starts again with a shuddering gulp of air.

Buck moans around his cock and Eddie touches his hair, threads his fingers gently through it. Everything in him is telling him to fuck Buck’s mouth, to get a good firm grip on him and just go . Eddie shivers and shifts, trying to make the energy go somewhere. Buck’s taking it slow, and a triumphant thought flashes through Eddie’s head, that maybe he’s bigger than Tommy, maybe Buck needs to get used to it. Lightning bolts of lust strike him imagining this happening in the light, Buck pulling Eddie’s cock out and giving him a look like, really? and Eddie would tell Buck, don’t worry, soon you’ll be able to take it no problem. He’d finger Buck so slow and so good, until he was out of his mind with how good it was, until he couldn’t stay quiet if he tried, and then Eddie would press his cock inside Buck – and Buck would say something, something quiet and shocked. Eddie would ask if he was okay and Buck would say yeah, I’m good, it’s just. Tommy never felt like this. Tommy never felt this good. Tommy never loved me like this . And Eddie would laugh and say just you wait, baby , and he’d fuck Buck any way Buck wanted, maybe fast and hard, or maybe slow, deep, agonizingly good, until Buck was clutching at him and moaning and coming, coming with Eddie inside him.

Buck’s bobbing his head now, the sound of it so fucking dirty, and Eddie’s moaning like he’s hurt. He sounds desperate; he sounds fucking pitiful. Buck makes a hungry noise around him and slides his hands under Eddie, grabbing his ass hard.

“Buck,” Eddie moans. “Buck, oh my God, Buck. Fuck, I love you, Buck, I-I love you, I - “ He can’t speak anymore, his mouth working soundlessly, Buck’s hot clinging mouth wrapping around him, and his cock swells even harder, he’s arching up off the couch, and he’s coming in Buck’s mouth, moaning Buck’s name over and over again.

Buck pulls off his cock, heaving in breaths of air, and Eddie’s no better. He reaches for Buck, to touch his face, and Buck pulls away.

“I...I should go.”

Brian’s already standing, wiping his mouth. He backs away from Eddie.

“Brian,” Eddie says, and then he’s a loss. His cheeks burn hot; what can he even say?

“Eddie, please,” Brian says. He pauses as if to gather himself. “I just, I need to go.”

He walks to the door, into the little pool of light spilling over from the kitchen, and pauses, looking back at Eddie. His hair is a mess, his lips swollen, his chin wet with spit. Eddie must have been pulling on his shirt because it’s completely wrinkled now. In his jeans, the line of his hard cock is clearly visible. He hesitates another second and then says, “I’m sorry.”

Then he’s gone. Eddie’s cock is still softening against his belly, slick with spit. He sits up, tucking himself away and zipping up. When he tries to stand, it takes a couple tries, his muscles shaky and slow to respond.

He walks to the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror; he looks mostly the same, he thinks. Even though – yeah. Even though everything’s changed, and he can’t go back, can’t unknow everything he wants from Buck. He can’t forget moaning Buck’s name like a prayer.

On the sink, his phone lights up with Buck's name. He's calling. Now. He's calling right fucking now. Eddie meets his own panicked eyes in the mirror.